


Stimulated

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: Queer as Folk (US) RPF
Genre: M/M, Vibrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-24
Updated: 2013-03-24
Packaged: 2017-12-06 07:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Randy's non-QaF sex life is not TV-worthy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stimulated

**Author's Note:**

> Written circa-2004. I just remember that somebody hated this story enough to write a really mean parody of it. Go me!

"Randy, are you coming to bed?" Simon asks, putting forth what is probably his best attempt at bedroom eyes. Randy sighs and nods, biting his lip as he tugs off his sweatpants and thin white t-shirt, feeling himself wither a bit under Simon's gaze. No matter how often they're together, how many times Randy reminds himself that he loves Simon, the other man's eyes traversing his naked body always gives him the creeps a bit.  
Randy crawls underneath the sheet once his underwear has been reluctantly removed, and tries not to flinch when his body comes in contact with Simon's. It's a small bed, he rationalizes, too small at times, but Simon loves him and he loves Simon, and so he should really look at this as a blessing in disguise.

Simon leans over to kiss him, and Randy turns his head, faking a yawn so that Simon's lips connect with his cheek instead of his mouth. "I'm tired," he complains, and it's only half true, but Simon nods anyways and reaches over to the bedside table to shut off the reading lamp. Randy always likes Simon better with the lights off - not because it's more romantic that way, but because, when it's dark, Randy doesn't have to work quite as hard pretending that Simon is somebody else.

Like Gale; Randy loves his Gale. Of course, he cannot actually call him His Gale out loud, because as far as the rest of the world knows, Gale is straight and Randy's gay and the two mix about as well as oil and water, but then, the rest of the world isn't privy to the things he and Gale do with one another in the isolation of their adjacent apartments up in Toronto. His home-away-from-home, Randy secretly calls it; Randy rarely gets attached to temporary living spaces, but this one shares his best-kept secret, his Galeaffair, and Randy loves it for that.

Simon presses himself along the curvature of Randy's body, and from behind, Randy can feel slight pudge of Simon's stomach rippling against him. Simon is not necessarily fat, per se, and if Randy hadn't been using in and out-of-character experiences with Gale as a standard to which all other sexual experiences should be compared, he wouldn't have minded the chunk of imperfection, but on a whole, Simon's body does not do wonders for Randy's attempts at sexual gratification. And in fact, it's another large reason why he prefers the lights to be off.

"Are you sure you're completely exhausted, honey?" Simon whispers in his ear, and Randy's pretty certain that it's meant to sound sexy, but it kind of just makes him want to punch Simon in the face. He is further alarmed when he feels Simon's -- "engorged" would be kind of generous -mbermber press against his backside. Along with stamina and physique, another thing that Simon lacks (and that Gale has in spades) is a commendable cock size. Randy has never been a "size queen", per se, but ... he does, at least, need *something* to work with.

Simon reaches over to grab his cock and Randy sighs and acquiesces to a hand-job. He's not precisely sure why he's stayed with Simon for quite so long, but he's pretty sure it's a combinatif haf having been naively intrigued by his ability to string words together - Simon is a rather renouned journalist - and the fact that Simon ... well, isn't Gale. While this is a terrible realization in the sack, as far as the public is concerned, Randy and his lanky co-star are "just good friends", and he prefers it that way. Randy despises Simon's unsatisfactory genitalia, but he despises the paparazzi even more. Nevermind that he's dating one of them, Randy reminds himself as Simon starts thrusting into him; Randy's still pretty tight, but Simon's cock, even up to the hilt, does not even begin to hit his pate.ate. Dating Simon may give him the inside scoop on the gossip-mongering media, but sadly, Simon's dick isn't a very useful 'insider source' at all.

Simon does give at least satisfactory hand-jobs, though, so even though the bucking against his ass does pretty much nothing for him, Simon's fingers curled around his cock does eventually manage to bring Randy off, to his benefit, only a few moments after Simon shoots his own load. The pseudo-blond actolets out a passable moan that could be construed as orgasmic bliss, and judging by Simon's lips curling into a smile as he presses his mouth to the back of Randy's neck, that's how he chooses to perceive it.

"That's my baby," Simon cooes, and Randy really has to try not to gag. Simon rolls away momentarily to pluck a tissue out of the dispenser on the nightstand, crumpling it into a ball after he wipes his hand off. "Goodnight, lambchop," he whispers, and Randy returns the well-wishings dully, closing his eyes for good measure. He lays there for a few moments, listening while Simon's breathing becomes regular and even, and priding himself for only thinking once about shoving a pillow over his lover's face and holding it down.

When he's sure that Simon is asleep, Randy gingerly reaches underneath his side of the bed and pulls up an elongated green object. It was a "present" from Gale at the second season wrap party - rather, Gale had pulled Randy out into the hall and presented him with it in a paper sack - his apologetic last-minute attempt at wrapping it. "Hope you have lots of fun with the fiddler. Love & Kisses, Brian", it had read - Gale was the only person who could get away with using their character and actual names interchangeably. They'd christened it that evening before leaving for separate sides of the country the next day - it had been one of Randy's most bittersweet memories of Toronto.

Making sure that Simon is still asleep, Randy carefully inches his hand down, sliding it over his torso. He holds up the flourescent green vibrator, running the pad of his finger over the rubbery plastic head. There's a picture of Gale taped onto the rounded end - he'd added it after that memorable final evening two years prior. He isn't quite sure how his co-star would feel about it, so he's never mentioned it. 'He gave it to you under the guise of it being a present from his alter-ego and your fictional boyfriend,' a nagging voice in his head hisses. 'It shouldn't surprise him that you automatically pair it with memories of him.'

Randy reaches underneath his pillow and pulls out a tube of lubricant. Applying it liberally (Simon didn't really make him that wet) to two of his fingers, Randy slides his digits into his ass, wiggling them around and trying to control his breathing and sporadic movements against the mattress. When he's rocking against his hand sufficiently, Randy moves to replace his fingers with the dildo. He bites his lip hard as it glides in-between his cheeks and back out again part-way. He holds his breath, listening as Simon lets out a couple of very ungraceful snores, then lifts his ass off the bed just enough so as to give himself leverage to continue sodomizing himself with the dildo.

Randy knows he's risking it, but after a minute or so of shallow thrusting, his thumb purposefully hits the "on" switch on the hilt of the instrument. "Ohhh," he gasps softly, rocking back and forth as the thing begins to vibrate inside of him. Clamping his mouth shut, Randy closes his eyes and turns his head sharply to onee, fe, facing away from his lover.

In his mind's eye, Randy sees Gale, hovering over him possessively. Randy's legs are kicked up over his shoulders, because Gale tells him how much he enjoyed filming the scene for the pilot episode where Brian takes Justin's virginity. "I got to see you face-to-face," he says as his hand artfully moves the vibrator in and out of Randy's ass. The Randy in his imagination tries to turn his head away as the sensations grow, but Gale won't have any of it. "Don't," he says, and his hand snakes down to fondle Randy's imaginary self's cock as Randy wraps his digits around his member in real time.

Gale chuckles as Randy makes heady noises, mouth opening and closing, eyelids fluttering as Gale consciously attends to both his ass and dick. "You have pretty eyes," the darker-haired man murmurs, and he bends down to kiss the side of Randy's mouth. It, combined with the heavenly pressure in his ass and Gale's fisting his cock is too much, and Randy feels his envisioned scenario slip away until all that he's left with is his belly splattered with warm come and the green vibrator resonating dully inside his ass. He pulls it out with a quiet groan and turns it off, then, resting for a long moment so as to catch his breath, pads to the bathroom to wash it off.

Gale's visage becomes visible as Randy stares at the head of the toy in the dim light of the bathroom, and he smiles wistfully. "The fiddler fell off the roof a long time ago, Brian," he thinks to himself, and heads back to the bedroom. Simon hasn't woken up despite all of the commotion. Randy knows from experience that he usually doesn't. And, he realizes as he stores the vibrator underneath the bed again and joins his partner on the mattress, he's only slightly relieved about this.

-*-

"I'll probably stop by the store on my way home from the office this afternoon," Simon volunteers as Randy stirs his first of many Monday morning cups of coffee. He nods silently in response and Simon smiles at him. "Did you need me to pick anything up?" he asks, and Randy considers this for a moment.

"I need a pack of AA batteries," he finally says, taking a bite out of the poppyseed muffin Simon places in front of him.

"Wow, another one?" Simon asks incredulously. "I thought you just bought them last week, Rand."

"I did," Randy shrugs, putting forth his best attempt at nonchalance, even as he worries that his late-night self-satisfaction routine has been found out. 'Thank God I'm an actor,' he thinks dryly, and then, aloud, adds, "but my Discman just eats them all up."


End file.
